


Cloud

by Fuzzy_Mat



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anxiety, Athazagoraphobia, Dissociation, Existentialism, Gen, Self-Fear, Self-Hatred, also adhd problems oop, commenting on bad brain habits, memory problems, osdd problems yo, self fic, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26024074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzzy_Mat/pseuds/Fuzzy_Mat
Summary: OG summary: You waited for the haze to leave. It didn’t. You waited. And waited. And waited. When did the haze start ? You’ve forgotten.
Kudos: 2





	Cloud

**Author's Note:**

> OG Note: it’s another vent fic but without any media characters just me and the bad brain goo ! No read more again because mobile main has cons; this is a lot of rambling as this is in a moment so i’m just putting down what i can 
> 
> I posted this [originally](https://fuzzynat.tumblr.com/post/622336585134899200/cloud) on June 30th, 2020; I'm reuploading it here because of storage reasons; nothing is altered from the original 
> 
> This isn't really like.. a relatable thing and a personal piece but I am archeiving all my writings so..  
> I put original male character because I'm a man and it's a self fic so ???

You’ve forgotten again.

You know you have.

You see it in their face. They’re frowning then they scoff about how they shouldn’t have expected more. You don’t even say sorry. Did you ever know how ?

You tried to remember. They said something… Something about.. About the.. The thing… It was important. You remember. You remember it was important.

What was it ?

You try hard to remember but there’s a haze. The haze is familiar. It’s like an old friend that you’re reluctant to see because you remember talking bad about them behind their back. It’s hard to think when they’re around. It hurts.

The people tell you to make a calendar, a schedule, write it down so you have no excuses. You forgot the calendar exists. The haze makes it worse. You’re not sure where the reminders are… You put them somewhere easy to find but.. Where was that ? They remind you that you have no excuse.

You forget to reply.

People joke all the time of losing thoughts such as love making them scurry from your head. They laugh and jest while you sit in fear. Fear of the thoughts leaving your head. It had taken so long to get them back; you’re not sure what you would do if they left you again. It’s unhealthy. The conversation and moment ends and the thoughts flee your head.

You don’t remember.

Sometimes you have a good day. You were in the moment ! You were present and you remembered ! You want it to stay that way. The next day they ask you about that day. You feel dread. You feel sick. You want to scream.

You’ve forgotten again.

You spoke. You said something. At least you were sure you did ? It was you wasn’t it ? The others.. They couldn’t have said something for you… did they ? It was not your brand but you’re you right now right ? Right ? It’s not like the other people pay enough attention to care anyways.

You let yourself forget again.

You stare at your face. People find it weird that you do it so much in private. But you need to know what it looks like. Every angle and curve, there’s a freckle on your cheek, a mole on your chin. You keep note of this. You don’t know why. It doesn’t even feel like your face but you stare and you try to engrain it while you can.

They asked for a self portrait. You can do this. You have notes. You see it so often. There’s a freckle… There’s a freckle on the.. On the……. Was there even a freckle ? You’re only sure of the mole…

You go back to starring and you try harder this time.

The haze is back. It’s worse this time. You’re unsure if you’re you. You think you are.. You were you early why would it be different now ? But everything feels off. Tilted. Leaning. The haze doesn’t help. You feel you’re alone in the fog. You know they’re there but where ?

Your body feels wrong. Is it because of the haze ? The dysphoria ? Are you the wrong person ? There’s no answers. Only static and a feeling of a void in your head.

You begin to wonder if you’re even you. In the sense that if this was even your body. Was there someone before you ? This body has always felt wrong but maybe it was just the dysphoria. But you’re unsure.

You can’t remember your childhood. The people are upset that you can’t. It builds on your theory that you’re not the original. You know there was a life there. Because everyone has one. Sometimes you remember bits and pieces but it’s not enough. What were you like ? What did you do ? Who were your friends ? What was your dad like when he was still there ? You once knew you think.

Before you can make any headway on your concerns.

You’ve forgotten again.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is [fuzzynat](https://fuzzynat.tumblr.com)  
> Kinda surprised that there's no official osdd tag but also I kinda don't mind going unnoticed... Still like this tho (might upload my original poems too for funsies)


End file.
